


Red Lines

by DazzleYourMindsEye



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Corporal Punishment, Description of blood, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Pre-Canon, The Cadets, catradora if you squint, description of physical injury, growing up in the horde sucks, little bit of a character study, physical injury, plus an excuse to flex my angst muscles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24958141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DazzleYourMindsEye/pseuds/DazzleYourMindsEye
Summary: Growing up in the Horde isn't easy, where punishment for infractions is swift and brutal. Adora didn't get all of her scars from battle.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 166





	Red Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Wow so... this was rough, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone until it had been written. I've been really wanting to see and explore Adora (and Catra's) relationship with their squad mates. I think Adora would make an effort to be a good leader, and look out for her team.
> 
> Enjoy, and I hope everyone is staying safe out there!

“For the Horde’s sake, will you just _shut up_?!”

“Catra!”

Catra grit her teeth at Adora’s admonishing tone and threw another glare at Kyle, curled up on his bunk across the room. He lifted his head weakly from the mattress and whimpered again. “It hurts...”

Rogelio rumbled from his place beside Kyle’s bed, his tail lashing in agitation.

Lonnie leveled a kick at the metal bunk frame as she passed by it, her pacing not slowed down in the slightest. “Well if _someone_ hadn’t thrown up on Shadow Weaver’s cloak then you wouldn’t have had your rations taken _dummy_!”

Kyle groaned again and his head flopped back down.

Catra glanced over at Adora’s profile. Her brow was knitted as she watched Kyle whine on his bunk and her knee bounced up and down, a sure sign she was thinking. And Adora thinking never led to anything good.

“Hey.” Catra placed a hand on Adora’s bouncing knee, digging her claws in for emphasis. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. You know Shadow Weaver as well as I do, it’s not going to work. Not when she’s in a mood.”

Adora scoffed quietly and her knee stilled, but she didn’t move away. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Sure you weren’t.” Catra rolled her eyes. “If Kyle wants to have his rations taken for three days that’s his business. Stay out of it.”

Adora sighed and hung her head in her hands. “I’m squad leader, I should be doing something.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Catra’s tone turned tense. “Kyle can live with it, he always does.”

Adora met Catra’s gaze evenly. There was a beat of silence, filled with words neither of them could voice. Then Adora’s face softened and her shoulders relaxed. She gave a short nod.

“Are you insane?!”

Both looked up at Lonnie’s agitated exclamation. She had stopped her pacing and stood with her hands on her hips, leveling a glare at Rogelio. The taller cadet stood from his place beside Kyle’s bunk and gestured helplessly toward the boy, grunting rapidly.

Lonnie shook her head. “It’s not going to work, you’re going to get us all in trouble!”

Rogelio opened his mouth to argue more, but Adora stood from her bunk. “What’s he saying?”

Rogelio’s jaws snapped shut and he glanced down at the floor, wringing his claws. Lonnie flicked her gaze back and forth from him to Adora, mouth twisted in contemplation. Finally her shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Rogelio is thinking about sneaking out to rations storage.”

“What?” Adora blinked and her mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that, you know what the punishment for stealing is!”

Rogelio grumbled unhappily and bared his teeth. Adora’s shoulders straightened and she crossed the short distance to stand by the young lizardman. “Not to mention it’s already past curfew. I know you want to help but it’s not worth the punishment, trust me.”

Adora patted Rogelio’s forearm in reassurance and knelt beside Kyle’s bed, touching his shoulder. “Kyle?”

Kyle groaned and cracked open an eye. Adora furrowed her brow at his pale face and dark circles under his eyes. “Can you hold on until morning? I’ll see if I can sneak you some of my rations.”

Kyle lifted his head from the bed and nodded weakly. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Good.” Adora stood back up and faced Rogelio, turning stern. “No one is sneaking out, okay?”

Rogelio’s snarl shrank, but didn’t disappear completely. The end of his tail continued to twitch, but he turned his eyes to the floor and nodded.

Catra watched from her perch on the end of Adora’s bunk, her own tail twitching in thought. Something in her stomach stirring as she watched Adora reassure their squad mates. Of course she would care about good-for-nothing Kyle, because Adora cared about everyone. Stupid.

“Okay. Lights out is in ten minutes, we should all get some sleep.”

Catra took her usual place at Adora’s feet, and maybe if her sensitive ears picked up the sound of the dorm doors hissing open and a scaly tail sliding on the floor hours later in the dead of night, she wasn’t going to say anything.

* * *

The loud clang of heavy knocking on their dorm doors jolted Adora awake and she sat sharply upright in her bed.

The lights clicked on automatically, blinding and harsh.

“On your feet cadets!”

Years of conditioning took over and Adora leapt out of bed, taking her place at the base of her bunk and snapping to attention with arms crossed behind her back. Across the aisle Lonnie took an identical stance, one arm dragging Kyle upright beside her. Kyle still blinked sleepily, the circles under his eyes looking darker than usual. Worry flickered through Adora’s belly as she watched him sway in place. But Lonnie’s grip on his upper arm kept him upright and Adora allowed a sigh of relief. She felt Catra tense beside her, also in an attentive stance.

Octavia stomped in, heavy boots clanging too loud on the metal floor with her trademark snarl on her lips. Behind her, two more uniformed soldiers marched in. Dragging a familiar figure between them.

Adora felt her heart sink. _Oh no_...

The two soldiers dropped Rogelio to the floor, where he curled up in a defensive posture. Adora raked her gaze over him, but couldn’t spot any obvious injuries…

“Do any of you want to tell me why I caught one of _your_ squad mates trying to _steal_ from the store rooms?” Octavia snarled, stepping into Adora’s space.

Adora hadn’t been afraid of Octavia since she was eleven years old, but the Force Captain’s fury rolled off her in waves and she had to fight the urge to step back. Adora tightened her mouth and her eyes flicked from Rogelio’s crumpled form to meet Octavia’s furious yellow gaze.

“And don’t try to play dumb with me, Shadow Weaver isn’t here to protect her precious _golden child_.” Octavia’s one eye narrowed into a yellow slit. “I aught to skin every last one of you alive right now, I -”

“Thank you Force Captain, I will take it from here.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees, but it still wasn’t as cold as the all too familiar voice that slithered from the dark hallway beyond the open door. The two soldiers standing in the doorway scrambled to the side and Shadow Weaver herself seemed to form from the shadows and glide into the room, not even sparing a glance at Rogelio cowering in the floor.

Octavia took a small step away from Adora, but the snarl remained on her face. “Shadow Weaver, I was just telling these cadets -”

“I’m aware of what you were doing, Force Captain Octavia. These cadets – and their punishments – are under my jurisdiction. Do not forget your place.” The white slits that were the only hint of Shadow Weaver’s face narrowed behind her mask.

Octavia took the hint and lowered her chin, but Adora was still close enough to hear the grinding of her teeth. “Yes, Shadow Weaver.”

Shadow Weaver kept her eyes on the force captain for a single beat longer, then turned to Adora. She felt an all to familiar chill roll down her spine.

“Adora? Do you have an explanation for this?” Shadow Weaver’s tone gave no room for excuses and Adora swallowed the heavy lump in her throat. Beside her, she felt Catra shiver.

“No, I don’t.” Adora lifted her chin to look Shadow Weaver in the eye, staunchly ignoring the instinct to cower.

Shadow Weaver tilted her head in an expression that one might mistake for curiosity. “You are aware of the punishment for stealing rations?”

Adora fought the urge to wet her lips. “Yes, I am.”

“And do you, as squad leader, accept responsibility for Cadet Rogelio’s actions?”

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy and Adora dared a glance away from Shadow Weaver to Lonnie and Kyle (Kyle now barely standing) then to Rogelio. He lifted his head from its curled position to meet her eyes. As a lizardman Rogelio’s expressions were naturally hard to read, but this time there was no mistaking the pleading in his eyes. He shook his head, just the smallest jerk from side to side, and Adora felt her stomach twist harder and the lump in her throat grow.

“Yes, I do.”

Lonnie sucked in a breath through her teeth, and Rogelio tucked his snout under his arm. Even Kyle, still swaying on his feet and looking like a mild breeze would push him over, widened his eyes in surprise. Adora didn’t dare turn her head to look at Catra, but she felt just the lightest brush of a tail on her thigh.

Shadow Weaver straightened until she was looming over Adora, expression impossible to read behind her mask. “Very well. Your punishment will be ten lashes, plus an additional five for breaking curfew, executed tomorrow before morning drills.” Without waiting for a reaction Shadow Weaver turned and glided out of the room. A short gesture and the two masked soldiers followed her out. Octavia was the last to leave, and just before slipping out the door she turned and gave them all a smug smirk just as the door sealed shut with a hiss.

There was a single beat of silence where no one dared move. Lonnie broke it first by blowing out a harsh breath and striding to Rogelio, who hadn’t made a move to get up. She glared at the door as she pulled Rogelio to his feet. “I hate that bitch. I still regret that I wasn’t there when you scratched her eye out, Catra.”

Catra leaned casually against the metal bedpost, giving her claws a cursory flex. “I’m just mad I didn’t get both in one go.”

Her stance and tone screamed casual, but her tail lashed back and forth, betraying her agitation.

Lonnie gave Rogelio a pat on the arm. “You okay there big guy?”

Rogelio grunted something and held his closed fist out. Uncurling his claws one by one, revealing the slightly crushed shape of a single ration bar.

Lonnie’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, you actually did it.”

Rogelio growled, pleased with himself and shuffled toward Kyle who had finally given in and sunk down on his bunk. Rogelio presented the ration bar like a prized artifact. Kyle looked up at him, mouth open in shock. He took the bar with a slightly shaky hand and his eyes looked suspiciously wet. “Y-you even got the grey kind…”

Adora couldn’t help a small smile at the scene. She sat down heavily on her bunk and pinched the bridge of her nose. The lights clicked out, but the ever present greenish glow of the Fright Zone still dimly lit the room.

Adora could feel Catra’s gaze burning a hole in the side of her head. She braced herself and muttered, “Just say it Catra.”

Catra’s silhouette by the bed post stiffened. “What were you _thinking_?”

Adora eyes were starting to adjust to the dark and she could now make out Catra’s blue and gold glare. Adora rolled her shoulders and flopped back onto the bed, fully intending to go back to sleep. “It’s my job as squad leader to -”

“Oh cut the crap.” Catra sat down heavily, the mattress barely giving under her weight. “No one else would have put their neck on the line like that and you know it. And Shadow Weaver did too.”

Adora swallowed thickly and looked down at her hands in the dim light. “She would have been harder on Rogelio...”

“Right.”

Adora caught a hint of bitterness in Catra’s tone. She heaved another bone-deep sigh and rolled over, tugging the blanket over her shoulders. “Get some sleep, Catra.”

She knew that Catra was no where near done, but after a minute of tense silence Adora felt her familiar weight settle at the end of the bed. Catra huffed and Adora felt the expansion of her chest and the puff of warm breath through the thin blanket.

Adora buried her head under her pillow and tried not to think.

* * *

They came for her in the early morning, well before wake up call.

Catra and their fellow cadets watched Octavia click cuffs over Adora’s wrists.

She knew it was best to keep her mouth shut, but Catra had never been one to follow her own advice. As the laser cuffs locked with a hiss, she bit out through clenched teeth “Are those really necessary?”

Octavia glared at her, yellow eye filled with malice. “Watch it kitty, or you might be joining her.”

With a harsh shove Octavia marched Adora to the door where two other soldiers waited. Adora threw what she probably thought was a reassuring smile over her shoulder. “I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

Kyle looked down at the floor, Lonnie’s frown got deeper, and Rogelio’s tail thrashed as he growled. Catra glared at them. _They should feel bad, this is_ _ **their**_ _fault_. Catra wasn’t surprised at the strength of the venom in her thoughts.

What was surprising is not even fifteen minutes later two more soldiers stood in the doorway, faces hidden behind their helmets, impatiently gesturing for them to march out of the dorm and down the hallway. Catra miraculously managed to resist the urge to snarl at them.

A few minutes of marching led them down several twisting hallways, to a doorway that Catra vaguely recognized. Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of voices. A lot of voices…

“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Kyle’s hushed whisper from the back of the line sounded too loud. Lonnie’s shushing was too late as the soldier bringing up the rear snapped, “Quiet cadet, you don’t ask questions here.”

Catra felt a tiny bit of sick satisfaction as she heard the telltale smack of the soldier whacking the back of Kyle’s head and his responding yelp. It was his fault Adora was being punished, _he_ should be the one taking those lashes…

The lead soldier slid an ID card into a slot and the door hissed open, revealing a cavernous space – an unused training room. A few dozen or so cadets milled about, speaking in low tones that created an echoing murmur. Judging by their white uniforms they were all the same training level – _our level_ , Catra realized. Slowly, dread began to build in her chest as she spotted a tall metal pole, placed on a slightly raised platform in the center of the room.

Apparently Lonnie had come to the same conclusion, because Catra heard her hiss a sharp breath and mutter “oh _no_...”

The room had grown quiet as they entered, but the murmur resumed when the other cadets decided they weren’t interesting. The two soldiers didn’t let them mingle with the others, instead making them stand at the wall, where they could see the metal pole on its platform.

Catra felt sick.

The door hissed open again, but unlike when they entered the murmur of the cadets ceased, leaving a silence so deep Catra could hear her own pulse.

Shadow Weaver glided in, imperious as always in her meticulous robe and ever present mask. Catra was too far away from her to truly feel the cold that always emanated from the sorceress, but she felt a sudden chill none the less.

Octavia entered just behind her, steering Adora with a bruising grip on her shoulder. Adora had been stripped to the waist, a single tight band of cloth across her breasts. She looked pale, eyes darting around the room at all the faces. Clearly not expecting an audience...

Catra forcefully swallowed back the bile in her throat.

“I’m sure this is quite early for everyone,” Shadow Weaver began, sickly sweet. In the silence her voice echoed around the room, even though she barely spoke over a normal conversational level. “But I could not turn down an opportunity for a teaching moment.” Shadow Weaver floated up to the platform, stopping beside the pole. Octavia and Adora followed, Adora stumbling slightly over the steps.

“As you are all aware, those of you who are squad leaders are responsible for your squad mates, in every aspect.”

Octavia forced Adora’s hands over her head, linking the laser cuffs to a metal circle affixed to the pole.

“And as such, have the option of accepting responsibility for the – _indiscretions_ – of those who are under you. Along with the punishments.”

Catra watched as Octavia cut the cloth across Adora’s chest with her Horde- issued knife, leaving the skin of her back bare. Vulnerable.

Catra tasted the iron tang of her own blood as she forcefully bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“Cadet Adora has chosen to take responsibility for the actions of her squad mates. And as such, will receive fifteen lashes to the back, delivered by Force Captain Octavia.”

Shadow Weaver’s cold gaze swept the silent room and finally landed on Catra, Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio. Pale eyes lingering on each one of them. “You would all do well to follow her example.”

Shadow Weaver glided off the platform, waving her hand dismissively. “You may begin, force captain.”

Catra could see the bright white of Octavia’s pointed teeth as she grinned. “Yes Ma’am.”

* * *

It was cold.

That was the first thing Adora noticed when the cloth fell away from her chest and the still air of the silent room hit her bare skin. She leaned her forehead against the pole and closed her eyes, its surface also freezing.

_Do it for them, do it for them, just think about something else, do it for them…_

She was so wrapped up in her internal chanting she almost didn’t feel the first strike of the whip across her lower back. Then pain bloomed like fire, like a hot brand against her skin. Adora clamped her mouth shut so tight her back teeth creaked under the pressure.

_Don’t make a sound, don’t give Octavia the satisfaction…_

The second strike burned across her shoulders, the merciless claw of a wild beast. Adora’s knees wobbled, threatening to give out from under her. But she forcefully straightened, planted her feet firmly and breathed harshly through her nose. _Don’t make a sound…_

The third and forth strikes lashed across her skin in quick succession, one after the other. One on her lower back again, the other on her ribs.

The tip of the whip curled around her torso and tore at her skin. This time a short yelp ripped its way out of her clenched teeth and one knee gave out from under her.

Something hot and wet rolled down her raw skin.

The room faded away into a steel gray blur. A muscle in her jaw cramped, but she wouldn’t cry out. Wouldn’t give in. Wouldn’t make things _worse_ for them…

The whip lashed across her back over and over again, tearing her skin and flesh. Individual strikes ceased to stand out, Adora’s entire torso throbbing in agony. She tried to pull her leg back under her to stand up, take the pressure off her shoulders, but her boots slipped on the cold steel platform. Why was the floor so slippery…?

Adora’s vision faded to black, then came back, like a flickering video screen with a bad connection. The world looked sideways, her own bound hands stretched out in front of her on the floor of the platform. Wait, the floor? When did she end up on the floor?

A cool, fleeting touch to her cheek. Brushing back a lock of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. Then it was gone.

“Take her to the infirmary. Patch her as best as you can.”

_Shadow Weaver_ , Adora’s sluggish brain supplied. Hands tugged at her, lifted her. Then she was swaying, watching through blurry vision the faces of her fellow cadets like a rough ocean.

_Stupid, you’ve never seen the ocean_ , a voice piped up from the back of Adora’s mind. A voice that sounded an awful lot like Catra’s…

The hands carrying her dropped her (none too gently) onto a rough surface, stomach down. Then the surface was moving, rocking like she really was on water.

_Weird, there’s no water in the Fright Zone_ … was her last coherent thought before blackness crept in, and Adora thought no more.

* * *

Catra stared down at her bare feet. Willing the image of Adora bleeding on that pole to stop playing over and over again, to just _stop…_

“Fuck!”

Lonnie’s exclamation was accompanied by a loud bang as she punched the wall. Kyle flinched from his place beside Rogelio. The lizardman lay curled up on his bunk, nose tucked under his tail. Kyle patted his scales. “Hey, you know it’s not your fault...”

“Yes it is.” Catra hissed, fur bristling.

Rogelio curled tighter. Kyle looked back at Catra, lip wobbling. “Catra...”

“No.” she growled. “Adora took his punishment, he should be bleeding out all over the floor, not her.”

Kyle turned a greenish hue and clamped a hand over his mouth. _Good,_ Catra thought with venom. _He should be sick._

Catra’s own stomach rolled as the image of Adora’s bloody back shoved its way to the forefront of her vision. She turned away from Kyle and Rogelio (before she really did something she’d regret) and sank back down on her and Adora’s bunk to hug her knees.

They sat in silence broken only by Lonnie’s boots thumping on the floor as she paced by the door.

Catra twitched, restless, and was just about ready to join Lonnie in her pacing when the door hissed open to reveal two soldiers with a limp Adora strung between them by her arms.

They dropped Adora unceremoniously to the floor. “You all are exempt from daily drills today and confined to quarters until the evening meal.”

Smoothly as two robots they turned on their heels and strode out the door. It hissed close behind them and the sound of it locking echoed around the room with finality.

Adora groaned from her place on the floor. They hadn’t given her her shirt back, but her torso was now wrapped in pale bandages. Bandages that were already spotted with red.

“Fuck, Adora...” Lonnie bent down to pull her arm over her shoulder, helping her to her feet. Catra darted over to duck under her other arm and they slowly shuffled across the room to her bunk to lay Adora down on her side. Adora moaned, trailing into a dry cough.

Catra thrust out her hand. “Water!”

Her hand closed around a canteen and she tucked an arm under Adora’s shoulders to help her sit up. Something deep inside cringed when Adora hissed in pain at the movement and batted weakly at Catra’s arm.

“Shh, be still. I’m making sure you don’t choke, dummy.” Catra brought the canteen to Adora’s cracked lips. She sipped slowly, a dribble of water trickling down her chin and neck. When Catra pulled the canteen away, Adora dropped her head onto her shoulder and her blue gray eyes cracked open.

“Catra?” Adora’s voice was raspy, but steady.

“Hey Adora.” Catra gently let her lay back down, this time on her front. She frowned at the red stains on the bandages. They looked bigger than earlier…

Movement from the corner of her eye made Catra bristle, but it was just Kyle, wringing his bunk’s blanket in his hands. “Adora? You can have this.”

He tossed the blanket over Adora’s legs. She lifted her head from the pillow to try and look at him, but her face twisted in pain and she plopped back down. “Thanks, Kyle.”

Rogelio’s scaled head appeared over Adora’s shoulder from the other side of the bunk. He eyed Catra warily and she glared back at him.

But Adora’s hand crept across the bunk, seeking, and Catra heard the unspoken question. With only the tiniest of eye rolls she took Adora’s hand. Only to be surprised when Adora twined their fingers together.

Rogelio grunted something and nudged Adora’s arm with his snout.

“He says thank you. And that he’s sorry.” Lonnie spoke up from over by her bunk, digging through the small trunk at its base.

“S’okay.” Adora muttered. “I’m squad leader, ‘m supposed to take responsibility.”

Rogelio grunted again and laid his large head on Adora’s bunk, against her side. Catra felt a small surge of jealousy, but somehow the feeling of Adora’s hand in hers dulled the edges.

Lonnie made a small noise of triumph and held up something white in her hand. “Those bandages need to be changed.”

“Where did you get those?” Kyle exclaimed.

Lonnie winked conspiratorially at him. “Rogelio’s not the only one with sticky fingers.” She pulled a strip of bandage off the roll in her hand. “Wanna help me with this, Catra?”

Catra nodded and stood from her place, but didn’t let go of Adora’s hand. “Yeah. You take that side...”

Hours later, nearing late evening, Adora’s bandages were finally clean. Lonnie spent the entire ordeal muttering numerous expletives under her breath at the sight of Adora’s back uncovered and Catra had hissed in agreement with every swear. Dark red lines criss-crossed her skin, some deeper than others and still bleeding sluggishly.

“I’m gonna take out that bitch’s other eye, I fucking swear...” Lonnie growled when she tightened a bandage.

“Better get in line, then.” Catra had responded darkly while wringing out a bloody rag into the busted helmet they were using as a bowl, water tinting dark pink.

Adora groaned into her pillow, still not fully conscious. Lonnie’s brow furrowed and her mouth twisted. “I gotta say, that took guts, Adora.”

One blue grey eye cracked open to peer at Lonnie. “Just did it ‘cause it was right.”

“No one else woulda stuck their neck out like that, they’d have just let Rogelio take his punishment.” Lonnie smiled, the expression small and hesitant. “For what it’s worth? I think you’re a pretty damn great squad leader.”

Adora’s answering smile was small, but genuine.


End file.
